


The Star at the End of Time

by spacehopper



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, IN SPACE!, M/M, Seals (Ambiguous), Space Whales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 02:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19075339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/pseuds/spacehopper
Summary: He’d taken a leap of faith before. What was one more, for old time’s sake?





	The Star at the End of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NeverwinterThistle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverwinterThistle/gifts).



“I have a job for you.” 

Corvo looked up from the console with a smile that faded in the face of Emily’s grim expression. As she sat across from him with a sigh, he noticed wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. Ones that hadn’t been there before Delilah’s mad attempt to pilot Gristol Station into the star. If he were only her adviser, he’d have said it was good that she’d started to take her job seriously. But as her father—

“Anything you need.” He reached out, giving her hand a squeeze, and felt a little better at the tired smile she shot him. 

“I received a message. From a—” She worried at her bottom lip. “—a contact.”

“And?” It clearly wasn’t an immediate crisis, or Emily would’ve gotten straight to the point. So it was something strange, something she wasn’t sure about. His stomach tightened. “The Outsider.”

“No,” she said. “Well, not directly.” She sucked in a breath, and stared out the viewport behind Corvo, the blue tinged light carving sharp lines in her face. “The star is going out.” 

A rush of fear, followed by doubt, and despite his trust in her, he couldn’t help but say, “Emily, I know Delilah thought that, but Sokolov said it had millions of years left. Why would it change?” 

“It didn’t. We were wrong. My contact—” She laced her fingers together, nails digging into the back of her hand. “She has other ways to see, and I—” She took a breath, as if trying to reassure herself. “I trust her. Whatever else, I trust her.”

Part of Corvo, the part that was her father first and foremost, wanted to ask for more. A jilted lover, or one who’d jilted Emily in turn? Or something darker, deeper. It’d almost certainly be someone she’d met while he’d been held in suspension by Delilah. While he’d prefer to know more himself, if this contact had restored Emily to her as commander of the Kaldwin Stations, then Emily was likely right to trust her. 

And she wasn’t a child anymore. She was the commander, as her mother had been before her, and countless Kaldwins before them. So Corvo nodded, and didn’t press the matter. 

“What do you need me to do?”

Surprise flashed across her face, and he suppressed a smile. Still not used to the respect that came with the proper use of authority, but she’d learn with time. And she recovered admirably, pushing a datapad across the table towards him. 

_Blacksparrow_  
BT:43:TL900  
13091853/0900  
Billie Lurk 

He stared at it in disbelief for a moment. A ghost, one he’d assumed dead or long forgotten, and the world was better for it.

“Daud’s lieutenant,” he said, not bothering to conceal his disgust. “What do you want from her?”

“I want you to trust her.” She raised a hand to stop his protest. “Even if you hate her. I can’t forgive her. I wouldn’t expect you to either. But without her, I wouldn’t be here, and she’s the only one that’ll be able to get you where you need to be.” 

She gripped his arm with a strength he’d trained into her from childhood, and met his eyes with a steely gaze so hauntingly like her mother’s, even if the color was his own. 

“We need to find a new home. Billie can help. And you’re the only one I trust to see it through.” 

Behind Emily was another viewport. It looked out into the empty Void. 

“What else do I need to know?”

*

Words like whalesong filled his dreams, as the stars went black around him. One final leap across the Void, and maybe there was hope. But he didn’t have that power anymore.

_It’s been a long time since we spoke, old friend._

*

Billie Lurk was exactly what he expected, and nothing like it at all. A hard, scarred woman, honed by the years to a point, with an eerie cybernetic arm and a glowing red eye that wasn’t any tech he’d seen. But then he’d kind of expected her to have some weirdness going on, given who she was. Given what Emily had said. 

She took a step towards him, expression set. Not cruel, or unfriendly. But cautious, waiting for his blade to slide free. Would she fight? Flee? His hand went to it, and her human eye followed. 

“See you don’t have a pistol,” she said. 

“I find it’s better to limit the damage you can do to the only thing between you and the Void.” Pistols were fast, and deadly, and he damn well hoped Emily would just outlaw the things. Jessamine had tried, but she’d never had quite the political clout. But now, riding high on her triumphant return, Emily might. 

“Smart.” Billie snorted. “But then you’d have to be.”

Before Corvo could reply, she headed into the ship, and that was that. Neither of them wanted to chit-chat, old wounds and new crises more important than any smalltalk they might engage in. Emily had said Billie had more info, but it was info he could get once they were on there way. It’d be who knew how long in the Void. They’d have more time than he’d like. Have to pass it as best he could, training, reading. 

Maybe even dreaming.

*

The Stations spun around the star, while Corvo drifted above. It wasn’t the first star they’d spun around. Ridiculous, the Abbey said. The records were infallible. But the Outsider had shown him the beginning once. The construction around a distant star. And when that had gone out, to another. Impossibly ancient, built on tech they barely understood. 

And always ushered forward by the whales.

“We’ve killed them all,” he said, to the man who wasn’t a man, who wasn’t there and was listening. “So what do we do now?”

“Maybe you die. There was always going to be an end.” 

He didn’t turn. The presence at his back was clear and cold, the hand on his neck scorching. 

“And what about you?” He covered the hand with his own, and pretended he wasn’t pleased when the gesture wasn’t rebuffed. 

“Everything ends, Corvo.”

Then he did turn, and met those Void black eyes. 

“That wasn’t what I asked.” 

And just as he expected, the Outsider laughed. 

*

_Far beyond the reaches of this system, you’ll find Pandyssia. A star, not quite as bright as this one, circled by a rocky planet whose name is long forgotten. One that should support life, if it wasn’t constantly trying to kill you. But you knew that. And it’s a waste of words to tell you again. Because that planet’s not the only thing circling that star. There’s another, closer in. Totally uninhabitable, and that’s why those arrogant fools never looked. Never once glanced into those clouds. Life there isn’t great, sure. But it’s not bad either, hovering above the surface. Because we’ve got one thing they managed to kill._

_Don’t fuck this one up._

“That’s it?” Nothing identifying about the message, no time stamp or origin. Just the lurid green text staring out from the screen. “So there are people there, and whales. But I’m guessing they’re not going to welcome us.”

“Probably not, and damned if I wouldn’t shoot on sight in their place,” Billie said, closing the message. “But we don’t need them.”

“We need the whales.” 

She nodded, and that was it. Pretty much how their conversations always tended to go. But before she could leave, to tinker with the ship, or maybe brood into her audiologs, he had one more question.

“That wasn’t sent to you, was it?”

She stopped, and stared at him with that baleful red eye, and a brown one to match. 

“It was Daud’s. His mom.”

An echo of old rage flared in Corvo’s chest, only to burn out as surely as their star. Daud was dead. And maybe this was finally the payoff for sparing him, all those years ago. Or maybe he’d never meant for it to help anyone but Billie. It didn’t matter, in the end. Because Billie had sent the message. And whatever blood was on her hands, she clearly wanted to pay it back. 

“Let me guess. That eye’ll help us find them?”

She seemed taken aback, which he hadn’t been expecting. But she recovered quickly. 

“Gift from our mutual friend. Guessing that’s why you can see it? Most people can’t.” 

“Probably.” But Delilah had removed the mark. Torn the circuits from his skin, that let him transcend the Void, shifting beyond and below, a vibration of being for just one pure moment. But then the mark had always been more than that, no more true tech than Billie’s eye. “Not much else left from that, though.” 

“Yeah.” 

She didn’t say more; she didn’t have to. Sharing power, losing it. And another bitter reminder. This time, he was the one to withdraw. 

“Let me know when we get there, or if you need me. I need to get some rest.”

*

His sleep wasn’t restful in the least. But then he hadn’t expected it to be. Not with that glaring reminder of the bastard who’d played with his life, then disappeared. Old friend, and maybe something else, but he didn’t seem to be interested in doing more than taunting these days. 

So Corvo sat on the edge of an asteroid, and tried not to sound bitter when he said, “Did you really forget me so easily?”

Those who believed in the Outsider always said he was fickle. Capricious. That he’d only grown moreso, since the last whale had been slaughtered, in the main Dunwall Bay. The screams still echoed through the wiring, if you knew how to listen. 

“Oh, Corvo. You’re a hard one to forget.” He sat down next to Corvo, though sat was probably the wrong word for it. Appeared might be more accurate. Or simply existed, in that space, at this time, whatever time it was. 

The star they stared at was familiar, and unfamiliar all the same. 

“The star at the end of time,” the Outsider said, answering his unspoken question. “Someday, it’ll go out.” 

“But it’s not our star.” 

He turned his face from it, and to the Outsider, watching his lips twist into a fond and almost human smile. Lips that moved closer, to cover Corvo’s, tasting of raspberries and rum. He’d tried to replicate it, once, mixing drink after drink. But it was never quite the same. 

The silence was broken by a sharp bark, followed by another, breaking into a cacophonous chorus so unlike the familiar calls of the whales. As Corvo pulled back, he saw a pod of small creatures, looking a bit like gravehounds, if gravehounds had no legs. They wove in a hypnotic dance, before finally tiring and continuing on their way.

“Even at the end, there’s life,” Corvo said, as the creatures faded back into the Void.

“If only for a moment,” the Outsider agreed, before kissing Corvo again, all the more sweet for how bitter the aftertaste was. 

*

“We’ve got the whales. What now?” 

The look Billie gave him was probably one he deserved. Damn, he was tired though. Tired of having the fate of the Stations in his hands. Of seeing a reminder of everything he’d lost. Not hating her. Not hating the being that was not a man, that stalked his dreams again, a phantom bit of data he couldn’t quite scrub clean. 

Fuck, he needed proper sleep. But he wasn’t sure he wanted it. Through the tiny viewport he could see the whales weaving around them, guided in some way by the Outsider’s power, or maybe the Void itself, making sense of black and empty space. 

“I don’t know. At this point, I don’t have anything you don’t. He hasn’t talked to me, but from the circles under your eyes I’d say you’re not as lucky.” She tapped her Void touched hand on the table, and the barking from his dream seemed to echo back at him. 

“Life,” he said. “That’s got to mean— We can’t live on the planet. The main one, it’s irradiated beyond habitation, and we’ve never been able to come up with a way to deal with it.”

“So, what? Ask the whales?” She didn’t even bother to keep the skepticism out of her voice, and Corvo couldn’t blame her. 

“You know how he is. Riddles and useless hints.” He rubbed a hand across his face. More sleep was probably the answer, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted peace or not anymore. “Where are we going?”

“Wherever the hell they want, currently. Not like they’re very fast, so I figured why push it for now.” She paused, tapping her fingers again. The barking had faded. “So we’ll keep doing that.” 

“Yes. Let’s see where it takes us.”

“Not the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” she said, lips twitching into a smile. 

When the laugh came, it was a surprise. But maybe not as unwelcome as he’d once have thought.

*

The doorway he stood in was on a planet, or the remnants of it. Lush jungles sprung up before him, then collapsed into trimmed hedges, before twisting into skeletal mockeries of life. A nauseating sight, and one he didn’t have to look at, no matter what games the Outsider wanted to play. 

“Why are you helping us?” he said, turning away from the world, turning towards the being inside, reclined on a surprisingly solid bed. 

“That would be telling,” the Outsider said.

“You always did like your mysteries.” Corvo sighed, then sat on the bed with a groan. As he lay down, the Outsider became closer, the unnatural warmth he seemed to try and project still a strange and familiar comfort. 

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” He rested a palm on Corvo’s cheek, heavier than it should be, drawing Corvo in.

Corvo snorted, but couldn’t quite deny it. If he didn’t get a kick out of vague bullshit, would he even be here? 

“No,” the Outsider said. He brought his lips to Corvo’s. The taste had changed, though to what he couldn’t say. A memory not his own summoned endless shifting miles of grain, expanses beyond the possibility of the Stations. And the taste of soil, soaked by soot filled rain. “Do you want it back?”

A question he shouldn’t understand. Maybe one he shouldn’t answer. Did he want the life he had before they’d even met? Maybe the Outsider was asking that as well. Maybe someday, Corvo would ask him if he could. But for now he just held out his hand, and watched as the Outsider brought it to his Void touched lips.

“Yes. Do it.” 

The burn that came was sharp, as were the teeth that followed. And the Outsider was right all the same. Corvo wouldn’t want it any other way. 

*

The weeks passed, and then the whales stopped.

Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t this. The gaping maw of a black hole, the whales slowly circling it. Not just the ones that’d guided them here, but hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions. They should be drawn in, consumed. But instead they simply swam around it, seemingly unaffected by its terrible hunger. 

“We should be dead,” Billie said grimly.

He stared out the viewport, trying to see something, anything to hint at what the Outsider wanted them to find. How this, of all things, would save Pandyssia, save the Stations. Give humanity more time, before being consumed by the Void. His eyes caught on something that looked like a station, perched on the precipice. Not free like the whales, but caught in the unnatural gravity. Frozen in space. And maybe more than that.

“We need to get closer,” he said. But Billie was already at the helm, guiding them in, her eye always keener than his. 

Time seemed to slow, as they got ever closer. Still not close enough to see details, but close enough to tell it was similar to Gristol Station. An echo, one they’d lost, or something else? But he didn’t have time to ask, thrown forward as the ship ground to a halt. As the ship steadied, Billie let it go, meeting Corvo’s eyes before moving to the airlock.

She didn’t have to say anything. They both knew what this was. Stone fragments drifted past them, and whales in between. The airlock hissed open, and the Void along with it. 

He’d taken a leap of faith before. What was one more, for old time’s sake?

And somewhere, the Outsider laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Why does the Outsider taste like raspberries and rum? Because I Googled "what does space taste like," and that's what Google told me. 
> 
> And the title comes from a PBS Space Time video on YouTube.


End file.
